


Snapshot

by Twyd



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Art, Developing Relationship, Fluff, Hobbies, Humor, M/M, Photography, Slash, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 11:06:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16283444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twyd/pseuds/Twyd
Summary: Prompted by Creativia - if Shizuo had a hobby to channel all his aggression.





	Snapshot

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Creativia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creativia/gifts).



> I almost tagged 'hobbits' instead of 'hobbies' xD
> 
> LOTR x DRRR, anyone?

“Are you sure?” Shizuo asks again, his hands ghosting over the sleek, silver surface.

“Sure,” his brother drawls. “They’re always sending me freebies since I did their campaign. Keep it if you want it.”

Shizuo wants it. Not that he’s a photographer in any shape or form - the few photos he’d ever taken had been on his cracked phone or a friend’s - but something about the camera speaks to him. It feels sturdy and sure in his hands. Shizuo had been going to put it on eBay - like most of the freebies he gets from his brother, to help himself out when he’s between jobs - but he can’t quite bring himself to think of selling this. The camera wasn’t as big or complicated as some of the professional brands, but it was simple and sleek, and its eye was as good as his own.

Shizuo lifts the camera now and points it at Kasuka’s cat. Neat. He finds himself grinning.

“Enjoy,” Kasuka tells him.

-

Shizuo does enjoy it. He ventures around the city with his camera, feeling stupid and self-conscious at first, before quickly realising that the people were far too busy with their lives to care about what he’s doing. He takes pictures of buildings, someone’s dog, flowers in a shop window, the fountain outside Sunshine City, a cup of sweet tea when he stops somewhere for a break.

He checks the time and is amazed to see how it has flown. How has he never done this before? And it wouldn’t cut into his budget either, seeing as he could just upload the pictures on his computer and only print the best ones. He finds himself smiling again.

It is getting dark when he leaves the tearoom, too overcast for a real sunset. He figures he will start heading back, and maybe see something on the way.

On the overpass on the way to his apartment, he snaps a train rushing below him, the moon just faintly visible up above. It blurs slightly, but he can play with it later. Kasuka said the camera had some special features for that.

“Hey Shizuo, are you taking pictures?!”

“ _Take our picture !”_

Shizuo whirls around, and breathes out when he sees it is only the twins.

“You guys,” he says, letting out a little laugh. “What are you doing here? It’s kinda late to be wandering ‘round Ikebukuro, isn’t it?”

“You sound like Nii-san,” Mairu complains. “When did you get a camera? Can you take our picture?”

“It’s just a gift from my brother,” he says, chuckling as they start to squeal. “Come on, let’s make it fast. You guys should be getting home.”

He takes pictures of them holding their fingers up to make the peace sign, of them hugging, back to back, until they finally decide they’ve had enough. They’re still giggling as they scamper off.

Shizuo goes home, and goes to bed with a smile on his face for the first time in months.

-

Of course, it doesn’t last. A few nights later, when he is out with his camera again, something had to spoil it. It has been raining, and he is trying to angle his camera to get a shot of one the puddles as it reflects the city lights, as if it contained another world of its own. He’s about to squeeze the shutter, when a familiar voice calls,

“The battery’s going to run out soon.”

Shizuo lifts his head from the viewfinder and turns slowly towards the voice. Izaya. Of course it would be Izaya; Izaya always shows up to steal every shred of happiness Shizuo ever had.

“Izaya,” he growls, but without his usual spite. He’s too mellowed out to get really mad.

The other’s face breaks out into a grin.

“Did Shizu-chan get himself a hobby? Finally find a way to channel all that aggression?”

“Go away, Izaya.”

“Where did you get it?” he continues, unphased. “Is it from Bic? It looks expensive.”

“None of your business.”

Izaya ignores this.

“Can I see your pictures?”

“No.”

“Why? Are they...naughty?” Izaya’s grin turns up a notch.

Shizuo feels a growl build in his throat, his good mood diminishing by the minute. But he doesn’t want his camera to get damaged in a fight, and he doesn’t want to put it down. Instead he does the counter intuitive thing. He lifts the camera to his eye and aims it at Izaya.

The informant immediately frowns and covers his face with his arms. Perhaps the camera would steal his evil soul. Shizuo takes the picture of him like that, his his arms held over his face like Shizuo is about to deliver a killing blow. He stays like that even after Shizuo has taken the photo. Shizuo looks at the image on his tiny screen, and for some reason is happy with it. It is a good picture, and Shizuo finds himself smiling again.

“Thanks, Izaya-kun,” Shizuo calls as he begins to walk away. The informant doesn’t follow, and Shizuo doesn’t look back.

-

BIC cameras. Why is that so familiar? Oh yeah, Izaya. And Shizuo walked by the store pretty much every day of his life, the overbearing billboard and the lights of its ten or so floor blaring over the city station and main hub of the town. It is this building that Shizuo stares at now, his head craned to the electronic billboard. The same advert plays over and over, and this is the fifth time he has watched it, his fellow, disgruntled pedestrians having to weave around him on the street.

_CITY PHOTOGRAPHY COMPETITION._

_Nah_ , he thinks, when he finally tears his eyes away. It’ll be professionals who get the prize, with million dollar cameras and a million filters, or else just pretentious bullcrap. But then...what was the harm? Even if he was a runner up, it would be pretty cool. And he doesn’t need to tell anyone, so no-one needs to feel sorry for him when he fails. Without thinking on it any further, he aims his camera and snaps a picture of the website details.

-

Five. He gets to choose five photos to submit. He picks the puddle, the dog, the tea and one of Mairu and Kururi - he’s pretty sure they’d be cool with it. Now he just needs a fifth. It doesn’t matter, he won’t win anyway - his pictures are inane, boring, everyday. He might as well pick any of them. But he wants to get it right. He feels like his pictures have an unspoken theme, and he doesn’t want to ruin it. Clicking through his files, he comes across the picture of Izaya, and smiles in spite of himself. The informant looks like a little kid playing a game, trying to hide himself. Something about the picture draws him to it. Shizuo shrugs, and decides to go with his gut. He wouldn’t win anyway.

He takes his chosen five to the print shop the next day and submits them to the address provided, and doesn’t give it another thought.

-

A few weeks later and the very same billboard is screening Shizuo’s pictures. All five of them are displayed in a column, the screen blaring ‘WINNER’ at the bottom. Shizuo stares with his jaw hanging open. He’d had to sign a form giving them permission to use his photos as and when they liked, but he didn’t expect to just stroll into town one day and see them right there, where millions of people would walk past every day. He feels almost dizzy. He finds a bench by the smoking area and sits down to freak out more comfortably.

They have made Izaya’s image black and white, so it’s a little harder to recognise him. In fact, no-one would recognise him, unless they looked really hard at his rings and the cuffs of his coat, but even then, that could be anyone. Shizuo wonders if Izaya would be mad, or if he’d just find it funny.

Critics reviews also appear on the screen. The picture of Izaya is unanimously agreed to be the best one. _‘This has insecurity, fear, pain. The wearing of a mask to cope with city life in the modern age.’_ Shizuo wants to laugh, but he doesn’t. In fact, this description makes him uncomfortable, makes it hard to look at the picture of Izaya in the centre of the screen. He frowns, and finally gets up to leave. 

-

And it's not long before Shizuo sees Izaya again. Apparently the informant hadn’t found the whole thing funny. His face is hard and cruel.

“You know, you only won because of your brother.”

Something inside Shizuo goes still.

“What?”

“Think about it,” the informant drawls. “His face has been all over their damn adverts. So if his _brother_ applies for one of their competitions then _of course_ that brother is going to win by default, isn’t he? They wouldn’t want to piss off their sponsor.”

Shizuo stares at him, going hollow inside. Of course. It was so obvious now he thought about it. But for a moment he’d thought he genuinely had something, that he was _good_ at something for once in his life, but no. Stupid.

Izaya is watching him, looking slightly confused when Shizuo doesn’t erupt.

“Hey, I was joking, Shizu-chan.”

“You’re right, though.”

“Don’t be stupid," he says blithely. "They judge the pictures blind. They have to, or they could get in trouble for gender bias and all kinds. That’s why they tell you not to put your name on any of the pictures.”

Shizuo stares at him. This makes sense. But then, Izaya’s original argument made sense too. His head hurts. Even if he had genuinely won on merit, it feels meaningless now.

Izaya lifts his head to look at the glowing billboard above them, regarding himself with a wry expression.

“I should really get a model’s fee,” he remarks.

“...models normally have to show their faces to get a fee,” Shizuo points out.

“You wouldn’t have won if it had my face in it.”

There’s an almost awkward silence at this. Izaya looks away.

“My sisters will be delighted, anyway,” he says.

“Yeah.”

There’s another silence.

“They definitely do judge it blind though,” Izaya says again.

Shizuo peers at him curiously, wondering how he’s so sure.

“You into photography?”

“No,” the informant snorts with contempt, as if pleasant activities were beneath him. “I just...know things.”

Izaya’s eyes sneak back to his when he doesn’t get a response. And Shizuo doesn’t know why he does it, but he removes the camera strap from around his neck and hands the device to Izaya.

Izaya stares at him like he’s lost his mind.

“Are you nuts?”

“Maybe,” Shizuo says. His most precious possession is in his enemy’s hands, and he has seen Izaya smash people’s phones and similar belongings without flinching. Shizuo is probably, most definitely crazy. As if reading his mind, the informant quirks an eyebrow.

“You keep your photos backed up?”

“Yes,” Shizuo says, but not all of them. Everything from the past three days existed only on that camera; the celebration dinner with his family, the one sunny day they’d had in June, the now eaten chocolates Celty had bought him as a congratulations present.

Instead of going through the photos like Shizuo expected, Izaya brings the camera to his eye uncertainly, like a kid with his first telescope. His fingers hover over the various options.

“Is it complicated?” he says.

“It can be if you want it to be. But if you want a basic picture, you just click.”

Izaya scans the camera around the overlooking buildings and billboards, trying to settle on a spot. Then he swerves suddenly and points the camera at Shizuo.

“Say cheese!”

The shutter clicks before Shizuo can move.

Cackling, Izaya hands the camera back to him. Shizuo observes his own face looking back at him; bemused, surprised, something else. He’s glad Izaya didn’t look at the picture too hard before handing the camera back. With a sense of relief at having his baby back in his hands, Shizuo slings the strap back around his neck.

“I have to go,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Izaya waves him off. “You should keep working on your skills as a fallback for when you next get fired.”

“That’s the dream,” Shizuo says, with no real venom.

Izaya’s eyes narrow.

“It’s really mellowed you out, hasn’t it?”

Shizuo shrugs.

“There are worse things to do on a weekend,” he says, with a slight blush, as his previous weekends had been spent with movies, bad food and trying to destroy Izaya.

Izaya looks away moodily, apparently annoyed. He is probably thinking of how he needs to ramp up his efforts.

To distract him, Shizuo lifts the camera and aims it at him.

“Don’t,” the informant growls.

“Why not?” Shizuo says, finger suspended over the shutter.

With another growl Izaya stalks forward. Shizuo’s barely moved the camera from his face when the informant kisses him. He goes on kissing him, his hands coming up to rest around Shizuo’s neck. They are cold. Dazed, Shizuo’s free hand comes up to cover one of them, warming the chilled skin.

He keeps kissing Izaya, because he knows when they stop he will have to either walk away or go home with him, and both ideas feel impossible.

One of Izaya’s hands come down to cover his own, clenched tight around the camera. He breaks their lips long enough to murmur,

“You’re going to break it.”

Shizuo had been clenching and clenching without realising it. He shoves the camera into Izaya’s hand instead, freeing his own to wind round the other’s waist. Izaya lifts one leg to squeeze back, unashamedly letting his cock press into Shizuo's hip. His free hand grips Shizuo’s shoulder beneath his collar, nails digging in. He bites Shizuo’s throat unexpectedly, hard enough to leave a mark.

“Fuck you,” Shizuo splutters, and Izaya has to break away so he can laugh.

“If you want.”

_If you want._

Shizuo drops the informant’s leg he’d been holding, so suddenly the other almost loses his balance, if Shizuo hadn’t been holding him steady.

“OK.”

-

The camera rests on the bedside table where Izaya had left it, a silent witness. Even now, later, Shizuo has to draw in a breath at the sight of the other’s body. Izaya catches his eye and smirks.

“Want to take nudes?”

“... _can_ I?”

“No.”

“But what if -”

“No, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo tries very hard not to pout.

Ignoring him, Izaya snuggles down to sleep, burrowing into the covers.

“And don’t take any when I’m asleep,” he adds lazily.

“What do you think I am?” Shizuo protests, although he had been a tiny bit tempted.

Fine, no nudes. Instead, he snuggles next to Izaya and reaches over him with one hand, reversing the camera’s screen. Izaya’s eyes follow his movements, but he makes no move to stop him. Shizuo takes this image of them together, Izaya warm and crumpled and beautiful against his arm. Satisfied, Shizuo puts the camera down and turns off the lamp, snuggling into Izaya’s warmth to sleep.


End file.
